Faithfully
by SiriusHorcrux1018
Summary: [AU! Dean/OFC eventually] Life is full of choices. Some are easier than others. When a car accident leaves devastating results in it's wake, Dean's faced with some tough ones, ones that could change everything.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own anything! Not Supernatural as a whole, not the boys (but damn, did I wish...), nothing. Except this little plot bunny, inspired by some dreams I've been having and the movie The Vow. Yes, it does contain OCs, and it is AU! Mary and John are not dead, and while there will (probably) be no actual hunting or supernatural things going on, our favourites will most definitely be making an appearance at some point.**

**Also, bear with me here. I have not written anything in **_**years**_**, so please, don't be overly harsh with your reviews. They will help me make a better writer, but flames and harsh critiques will definitely discourage me from posting more.**

**Faithfully**

It was snowing when they left the movie theatre that night. Big, fluffy white snowflakes fell from the dark night sky, littered with small, twinkling stars. Streetlamps lit up the road, making the thin layer of snow seem to glow ever so lightly.

Pausing in her path, shivering as she yanked a pair of gloves out of jacket pocket, she took a minute to look up at the sky and couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. It had gotten significantly colder outside over the two hours that she had been inside.

"It looks like Christmas is finally going to be a white one."

"And we're gonna start looking like Jack Frost if we don't get moving."

Turning to her companion, she shivered involuntarily again and grinned. "What's wrong, Dean? Afraid of a little cold and snow?"

The man snorted and shoved his own gloved hands deep into the pockets of his deep, green jacket. Bouncing on his toes a little, the movement did little to warm him, and he fought to keep from letting his teeth chatter.

Managing a small smirk, he peered at the female with green eyes. Standing at only 5"3, her deep, red hair tucked underneath a matching beanie, Dean Winchester had no idea how she was choosing to stop and take a minute, instead of wanting to run back to the black Chevy Impala with him.

Cold, dry winters in Lawrence, Kansas were regular. The cold bit through layers of clothing, settling deep into a person's bones. Winter was the reason one chose to not be outside for any longer than they had to.

"I wanna get my baby warmed up, so I can get the both of us home. I don't really feel like becoming a human popsicle tonight."

"I swear, Dean," she answered, watching her breath appear for just a moment as she spoke, and followed Dean to the Impala, leaving footprints in the thin, cold blanket of snow as she went. "I think you have a bit of an unhealthy relationship with this car."

Unlocking the trunk, Dean pulled out a black and red ice scraper and snorted again. Tossing the keys to the woman so she could start the engine, he peered at her over the roof. "She's been good to me over the years. Can't help but love her, Kelsey."

The woman rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that played along her lips. She got in as quickly as she could, and shut the door behind her, as if that would keep the dreaded cold at bay. Turning the key in the ignition, she smiled again as the Impala roared to life, the gentle purring of the engine a comforting sound. She didn't know much about cars (if anything really), but she could and did have an appreciation for the 1967 muscle car. Black, sleek and beautiful, it really was a gorgeous sight.

"Come on, come on!" she urged with a bounce in her seat, as she watched Dean quickly brush the thin layer of snow off each window, hustling around the vehicle, before sliding in behind the wheel and tossing the ice scraper into the back seat.

Blowing hot breath into his cupped hands and rubbing them together, Dean reached over to the dashboard and punched a button to get the heat to turn on. Though, it was useless. It'd take a while for the old car to warm up, but at least they weren't directly outside again.

Taking a brief glance at his friend, he cocked a brow and grinned. Her cheeks were flush pink with chill, the tip of her nose red. Her thin lips, already a dark pink, seemed even darker from the cold. He watched her yank her scarf up around her face, as if doing so would provide her relief.

"What?"

Dean chuckled and blew hard into his cupped hands again, and shook his head. "Nothin'. You're just really red in the face." Wagging his brows suggestively, he smirked again, teasingly. "Are you happy to see me?"

"Oh, shut up, Dean." The redhead rolled her eyes, but Dean was sure, even though he couldn't currently see her mouth, that she had that crooked smile, the one that always slid across her face when she was trying to fight the urge not to laugh.

Finally, when Dean decided that he had enough warmth in his hands - his body as a whole needed a whole lot more warming up - he seated himself properly, and sliding into Drive, he pulled out of the parking space, and headed out of the parking lot.

Slowing to a stop at the intersection, he glanced at the woman beside him bounce lightly in her seat beside him, her cheeks puffing as she blew out hot breath into her own cupped hands, now free of the gloves she had been wearing.

Jesus, she was like a ball of energy. Unable to sit still. Dean knew it was cold. Hell, he could _feel _it in his bones (and boy, didn't that make him sound like an old man), but for someone who had teased him about being afraid of the cold and snow earlier, Kelsey Livingston couldn't exactly keep still and hide the fact that she was freezing.

Not that she was ever a really motionless person to start with. At 23 years of age, Kelsey Livingston was one of the most energetic people Dean knew. She was the kind of person that would squirm and shift positions one too many times while sitting, or get up for a run at 8 am, no matter what day it was. Why she liked running, Dean would never know. He didn't understand why people would want to torture themselves like that.

In his opinion, if he were going to run, there had better be a bacon cheeseburger and a hot chick waiting at the finish line. Or some serial killer from some crappy, low-budget horror movie wanting to hack his guts out. Something to give him motivation, you know.

"Did you like the movie?"

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts at her question and he nodded. "Yeah, it wasn't too bad. The car chases were pretty awesome."

"I thought you'd-"

BANG. The Impala shot forward into the empty intersection, the light for Dean still red. Caught off guard, Dean had no idea what had just happened until it was too late. He had reflexively slammed his foot back onto the break pad, in an attempt to stop the wheels, but that succeeded in doing nothing. The wheels kept spinning, unable to create traction on the snow and ice of the roads.

The sounds of shattering glass, a high-pitched cry, the protest from the car's engine as Dean pounded on the break pad... the sound of metal, cranking and groaning in protest as it folded in on itself. These sounds filled the air, filled Dean's ears for what seemed like forever.

And then silence.

**Please review and don't hesitate to offer suggestions! I've always got an open ear!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I couldn't wait to post this second chapter, having already written it. Keep those reviews coming! They inspire me to keep writing.**

**Also, I own nothing. Except everyone who's not part of the show.**

**Chapter 2**

The first sensation that eventually returned to Dean Winchester was sound. The sounds of slow but peaceful beeps, murmured voices. Words he couldn't distinguish for the life of him, not at the moment, but the voices - whatever they were saying - were soft, quiet. Comforting. At least that meant, he would suppose in hindsight, he wasn't dead. Not yet, anyways.

Soon, the sounds melted away to allow the feeling of touch to come back. He could hear the voices, as mysterious as they were, and he could feel something touching him. Cool, and small. A hand, maybe?

The voice continued mumbling it's incoherent speech, before it and the coolness faded away, leaving him in thick silence again.

The silence dragged on before the whispers came back. The words still indistinguishable but the tone deeper, the voice heavier than the previous one. There was no touch, but the voice - the whispers, whatever they were - wouldn't stop. As the sounds repeated, like it was on a loop, Dean found himself becoming more aware, more focused on that voice.

What was it saying? Ean? En? Dee?

He really didn't know but he could feel again. And what he felt was pain. A lot of it. Stiffness, soreness, sharpness. Whatever it was, there was a lot of it.

Finally, Dean managed to crack open his eyes, only to be blinded by white light. Harsh light that did not allow him the luxury of seeing. It forced him to close his eyes again, but the voice - that low, heavy voice was coming through clearer now.

"De..een...open... eyes..."

Was that voice calling him? Asking him to wake up?

Oh, but he was tired, and sore, and opening them took entirely too much effort. But the voice wouldn't stop, quietly urging him to try. Finally, his eyes fluttered open slowly, bit by bit until the harsh lightening softened. Eventually, slowly, his sight became focused and he found himself staring at a tiled ceiling.

Ceiling? What?

"Dean?"

That voice again, the one who had been calling to him. Blinking slowly, so slowly, he turned his direction to the owner. Floppy brown hair desperately in need of a haircut. Deep brown eyes. Too young to be his dad, definitely to young to be his dad.

"...Sam?" He tried voicing. His voice cracked, throat dry and sore due to neglect of fluids.

His kid brother. Well, not so much anymore. At 19, Sam Winchester was definitely not a kid. Standing at 6"4, Sam Winchester had definitely grown into his adult body, the muscle and strength to go right along with it.

"Yeah, it's me." He scooted closer, clearly having folded himself into a chair, and peered at Dean with his brown eyes. Dean noticed Sam had kept his voice low, and would thank him later. Now that sounds were clearer, the pain all over his body seemed to intensify too. Especially his head.

"What's... where am I?" God, he had never felt so disoriented in his life. Sure, he had definitely had his share of a few rough nights that involved alcohol and they had each ended in a horrible hangover. But this feeling? This sensation was ten times worse.

"The hospital," he explained, licking his dry lips, wondering just how much he should tell his older brother. The last thing he wanted was to alarm Dean, or make the guy panic. "You were in a car accident."

"Accident?" Dean repeated, squinting at Sam. But that made no sense. He had been at the movies, watching some stupid action movie. Cars. That's what was in the movie, that he had wanted to see.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed with a nod. Sparing a look behind him, Sam paused as he squirmed a little to see if he could see either of his parents. They should've been the ones to update Dean. Then again, they had asked him to stay with Dean for the moment, so really, he supposed that he could do that little job. "You and Kelsey were coming home, and you got rear-ended by one of those big trucks. You know, the kind that make deliveries?"

Dean frowned a little as he tried to remember this. It was snowing, yeah, he remembered that. The snow and the cold. God, he still felt cold, all the way to his bones. Was that even possible?

The snow, and the cold. The movies. Kelsey bouncing in her seat, wanting the warmth to come. He had made fun of her, teased her. Dean remembered that much. And he remembered stopping at the intersection, waiting for the light to turn green.

The harder Dean focused on the events leading up to the collision, the more the pain in his head intensified. And right now, he had two immediate thoughts. Flicking his attention back to his brother, he had to ask.

"Kelsey? My car?"

Sam flinched a little. He really couldn't help it. Sam quickly spared another glance back to the doorway and then back to Dean.

"Your car... well... it's not too good." Sam waved off the details, figuring it would be much to difficult to get into right now. Dean was barely staying awake and focused as it was. "Kelsey, on the other hand... Mom and Dad are with her right now."

"She...okay?"

Sam let out a shaky sigh and licked his lips again. "I don't know yet."

* * *

><p>Mary Winchester sighed and reclined back into the cheap, hard covered chair beside the bed, and risked a glance at her husband. Tall, dark haired and with a stormy look on his face, she could tell he was thinking the same thing she was: they were definitely in for some hard times.<p>

Beside her, laying on the bed, was Kelsey. Currently, asleep (or rather, how she looked), with a tube down her throat to help her breathe. Small cuts and scrapes littered her pale face, with a rather large and angry looking gash above her left eyebrow. Her red hair was tangled and mussed, and there was no indication the girl would be waking up soon. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a permanent sleep.

"What did the police say?" she asked quietly, her fluty voice breaking the thick silence.

John turned his attention to his wife, and huffed. "The truck hit black ice, couldn't correct it in time. There was no avoiding it, they said." Moving from where he had been leaning against the window, he paused in front of Mary to kneel down before her. He could feel her gaze following, and then finally settling on him "The car's practically a write-off."

Running a shaking hand through her blond locks, Mary gulped and nodded. That was just what they needed on top of everything else - Dean's 'baby' being beyond repair.

"Hey, Mary, we'll fix it." John promised quietly. Reaching over, he took her smaller hands in his and nodded. "I'll get it looking like it's brand new."

Her lips twitched with a hint of a smile before shifting her eyes back over to the female in the bed and motioning with her head. "What about her? Or Dean?"

She didn't want to ask, didn't want to even _entertain _the thought. But she couldn't help herself, couldn't help the words that tumbled out of her mouth. She couldn't stop the tears that crept up and fogged her sight, her voice from cracking with emotion. "What if they can't be fixed?"

John's eyes darkened a bit and he lifted her hands up to his mouth and gently kissed them. The week-old scruff around his jaw tickled the soft skin.

"They'll be just fine, Mary. You know they will." Pushing up on his toes, he kissed his wife slowly, comfortingly. "I'll go check on Dean, and bring you some coffee."

Mary nodded slowly, and watched her husband disappear from the room. _John's right_, she reminded herself. _They'll be okay. Just have some faith. After all, the angels are watching over them._

* * *

><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I don't own anything, but don't I wish I did.

**Chapter 3**

Dean felt like he couldn't breathe. Other people got this kind of news. People on TV got this kind of news. Not their family. Propped up in bed with pillows stacked behind him, he eyed the doctor standing before him critically. Mary sat beside him on a chair with John and Sam's tall forms standing behind her. Dean, although he wouldn't admit it aloud, was thankful that Mary had taken hold of his hand. That meant that this was _real._ Real was good - he could deal with real once he got his head wrapped around everything.

A woman, probably a bit older than Mary, with her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, calmly explained exactly why he was in the hospital, not that Sam hadn't already explained it to him only hours before.

An accident. They had gotten rear-ended by a delivery truck, who had caught black ice with no time to correct itself and avoid slowing down or smashing into the Impala. Him and Kelsey, both in the hospital. With some crazy stroke of luck, he had come away with only a couple bruised ribs, a few cuts and scrapes and a serious bump on the head.

Kelsey, on the other hand, was in worse shape. Alive, but in much worse shape. In addition to the cuts and scrapes from the shattered glass, and her own matching bruised ribs, they had found swelling in her brain, and so, the choice to keep her in a medically-induced coma for a few days was made.

"This will give her brain time to heal on it's own, allow the swelling to go down, and then, slowly, we'll wean her off." the woman, who had introduced herself as their attending physician, Doctor Susan Thompson, explained. She paused, eyeing each Winchester individually before landing her gaze squarely on John and Mary.

"I need to ask..." She paused again, and licked her lips. "Kelsey has not received any visitors, aside from yourselves. Is there a next of kin that I can have someone reach out to? It won't be ideal for her to be on her own when she's well enough to leave."

Mary shifted in her seat, tilting her head back to glimpse up at John, for just a brief second. "Uh, no." Putting her attention back onto Thompson, her lips twitched in a sad smile. "Her mom lives in Malibu, and, well... her dad hasn't been in the picture for a while now."

John nodded in confirmation. His large hand slid onto his wife's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "She's been living with us for years. We're pretty much the only family she's got."

Thompson bowed her head in understanding, and offered a comforting smile. "Understood. In the mean time," Pausing, Thompson spun on her heel and directed her attention to Dean. "You should be okay to head home in a couple of days, Dean, as long as things keep looking up for you. How're you feeling?"

"Sore," he grunted but snorted. "Guess that's normal though?"

"It is. I'll get you something to help with the pain."

With that, Thompson excused herself, and Dean could feel three pairs of eyes on him. Instantly, he felt uncomfortable. Nope, he would _not_ let this turn into a Chick Flick moment.

"Dean..."

"I'm fine."

"It's not your fault." Mary slid her hand out of his and up onto his shoulder. Even at 23 years of age, he was still her little boy, and could tell that this most recent news was digging and tearing him at his core. The tense muscles, the stormy look in his eyes - Dean blamed himself for the situation that both he and Kelsey were in.

"I'm fine, Mom."

Dean pursed his lips and sank into his fort of pillows, closing his eyes. Talking about The Accident (as it was being called) and most recent news update was the last thing he wanted to do. His usual response to anything serious was to make either a sarcastic remark or Avoid It. This time, he was going to go with the latter. Sarcasm might be unwelcome right now, he realized.

John and Mary exchanged another look, silently communicating between the two of them before Mary squeezed his shoulder, clearly accepting his reluctance to talk. Leaning over, she lightly kissed him on the forehead, careful to avoid the large bump from a collision with the door frame.

"Okay, Dean. We'll let you get some sleep." Her voice was quiet, comforting. It made Dean feel like he was five years old again - Mommy kissing him goodnight, promising to keep away the monsters.

His dad and brother both said their goodbyes, before the trio quietly departed the room, leaving Dean to his own thoughts.

Doctor Thompson returned shortly after, giving him some painkillers before encouraging him to try and rest. Then, she departed again, promising to check in on him soon.

* * *

><p>The week passed by in a blur. After three days, with Dean having recovered enough that he no longer needed to be kept overnight, Doctor Thompson allowed him to go home, granted he agreed to certain conditions. Those included taking it easy, and not being allowed to drive for at least a couple of weeks.<p>

"Guess that means you're gonna be my chauffer, Sammy." Dean had teased, clapping his brother on the shoulder .

Sam smiled reluctantly, as though the thought was too horrible to bear. "Great." In actuality, though, it probably wouldn't be that bad. Hopefully Dean would want to do nothing but laze around on the couch, and watch some garbage low-budget movies.

Three days after that, on a Friday morning, Doctor Thompson had announced to Mary and John that the swelling from Kelsey's head injury had gone down enough that they were going to wean her off. "She should be awake later this afternoon."

Dean and Sam had both been left at home (with a stockpile of painkillers for Dean), while they had visited with Kelsey, so John had called and updated them, promising to call again once the girl had actually woken up. When Dean asked (or, rather, _demanded_) that he get to be there, John shot his suggestion down.

"Too many people at once will overwhelm her. When she's awake and focused, I'll bring you and your brother to see her."

"But-"

"No buts, Dean. Doctor's orders."

And that was the end of that conversation.

Just before 4pm that Friday, Thompson had come to fetch John and Mary from the cafeteria where they had camped out with hot coffee, a temporary solution to the last mostly-sleepless week.

"She's going to be a bit groggy. Let's give her some space," she instructed, as the couple stood at the end of her bed.

They watched the young redhead's closed eyelids flicker slowly as sensations slowly returned, and a light moan left her mouth as her eyes opened fully, before immediately closing again, the light hurting. She tried again, and flicked her lids closed briefly, before finding it was easier to squint. After a few moments, she blinked slowly and her breathing hitched, her body tense, as she glanced around the unfamiliar environment.

"Kelsey," Doctor Thompson started, firmly but at a quiet volume. "I'm Doctor Susan Thompson. It's okay, you're in the hospital. You were in an accident."

Settling her green eyes on the doctor, the look of confusion swept across her face as she took in the three figures standing across from her.

Thompson directed a nod at the couple beside her, giving them the Go Ahead to speak.

"Hey Kelsey, it's good to see you awake." Mary started, her blue eyes twinkling with relief. "How're you feeling?"

There was no immediate response. Instead, Kelsey just chose to stare at the blonde woman and dark haired man, her eyes wide in a spooked fashion. The couple exchanged another questioning look with each other before both glanced to the woman in scrubs, the one who had introduced herself as a doctor, clearly wanting an answer.

"My head hurts." she finally answered, eyes still trained on the couple in front of her.

"Kelsey?" Thompson ventured, cautiously. "What's the matter?"

After a long, few minutes - minutes that felt like hours to everyone in the room - Kelsey blinked once, then twice. It was obvious she was trying to form some kind of question in her mind.

"Who are they?"

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I don't own anything! Not The Vow (or any other chick flick which inspired this story), the boys of Supernatural, the medical research I did for this... nothing! Sad, really, because I like writing smart, haha.**

**Chapter 4**

Kelsey Livingston couldn't remember the last time she had felt this frustrated with herself. Actually, she couldn't remember _anything_ since before she woke up in the hospital, with strange people staring at her. People she was supposed to know.

It had been three days since she had woken up. She knew that much, assuming that what her doctor had said was true. She also knew she had been asleep for at least a week. Medically induced coma, she had been told. Medication pumping through her veins to keep her sleeping while she healed.

She took a slow breath as she began to slowly slide her eyes over her new environment. The plain but harsh white walls, the only colour being the pale blue of her hospital blankets and gown. The slow but somehow comforting beep of her heart monitor calmed her slightly, allowing her to keep track of her own heart beats. The monitor's sound was so real, even though none of this felt real.

When she had awoken, after she had asked who the couple was, confusion had spread across their faces, and possibly hurt, as if she should've remembered them. Kelsey supposed that maybe she should've felt guilty. Instead, she had felt slight panic, confusion, frustration - she didn't know who they were, she didn't know why they were there.

"Was anyone else hurt?" She had asked, once she had been told about the accident in simple details, but with enough information to comprehend exactly why she was where she was.

"Your friend, Dean." Doctor Thompson had responded, motioning with her head towards the couple. "John and Mary's son. But he's at home now, resting up."

Now, three days later, after Kelsey had been given time to wrap her head around the information and the mandatory medical tests had been run, she found herself in the Family Room of the south hospital wing. The room, used by doctors who were giving families information about their loved ones, was meant to be comforting. Outfitted with soft couches, and a variety of books, toys and magazines, and currently empty of anyone else, it was here where Thompson was sitting down with Kelsey, John and Mary.

"It's called Retrograde amnesia," Thompson explained as she took a seat in the plush chair opposite of the couch that Kelsey was currently sitting on. Beside her, sat Mary Winchester, as she had introduced herself to Kelsey. Her blonde hair had been pulled up into a loose ponytail, her eyes darkening by a clear lack of sleep. On Mary's other side was her husband, John, his own dark eyes focused on the doctor. Dark stubble coated his lower jaw and chin, obviously having avoided the use of a razor in a while.

"Pretty much, in simple terms, Kelsey is having difficulty recalling stored memories. Like your names, or something that might've happened last year. Forgetfulness is also a common side effect. It's caused by the brain being moved around harshly during traumatic events."

"So, how long does this last?" John answered, gruffly. He flinched immediately after, not meaning the harsh tone, but lack of sleep, answering endless questions from both doctors _and_ his sons and spending hours at the hospital was starting to get to him. God, he really hated hospitals.

"John!" Mary snapped her attention to him, feeling his tone was uncalled for.

Thompson waved her hand, excusing the attitude. It's not like negative responses were anything new to a doctor, especially when dealing with a serious situation involving a loved one. "It could be a few days to a couple weeks to months. It depends on a number of factors. Routine, stimuli, the severity of the injury."

Kelsey, sitting quietly, listened, gently brushing her fingers over the bandage on her forehead that covered a rather long cut. Her head was hurting from the information, frustration and thinking.

"So, what? I just... look at pictures, and boom, I'm all better?"

Thompson shifted her attention to her patient and shook her head. "It's not that easy. It won't come right away." Pausing, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and gave Kelsey a gentle smile. "It's going to get frustrating, and you'll probably forget things, even if someone just told you it five minutes ago. But remember, it's normal. _Especially_ after the trauma you went through. You just need to remember to take a breath, and a step back. It'll come."

"You were talking about stimuli." Mary inquired. "What do you mean?"

"Sometimes, a powerful enough stimuli can trigger a certain memory," Thompson explained, tucking a dark lock of hair that had fallen free from her ponytail, behind her ear. "A photo, a song. Anything, really. I'd suggest that maybe Kelsey, when she's feeling up to it, take a look at some photos. See what happens. And get back to her normal routine as best as she can."

Flipping open the cover of the blue clipboard she had brought with her, Thompson consulted a chart inside. "Meanwhile, Kelsey, you're healing physically well enough that we can release you later this afternoon. We'll give you some painkillers that you can take at home for your head and ribs. But you need to take it easy. That means no heavy lifting, no exercise, and no driving until I give you the all clear."

Kelsey swallowed as she nodded, still gently fingering the bandage. "Where will I go?"

"You'll come home with us," Mary explained gently, avoiding wrapping an arm around the young girl. When she had done it earlier, Kelsey had immediately tensed up and stepped away out of Mary's hold. "John and I. You have your own room and everything."

Kelsey shifted her gaze from the blonde to the dark haired man hesitantly. She didn't know them. How was she supposed to just get into their car and go to their place? What if they were serial killers? Wasn't it always the innocent looking people who turned out to be total nutcases?

"We're not going to hurt you," Mary reassured her with a tender smile, trying to be as calm and motherly with the girl as she could. It would be so important as Kelsey healed that she learned to trust them again. "Dean and Sam are at home right now, and they'll be happy to help you get settled."

Kelsey volleyed her gaze between the couple and Doctor Thompson, letting her hands drop to her lap, where she folded them. Biting on her lip tenderly, she nodded in agreement. "Okay."

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Kelsey climbed out of the silver pickup truck and just took a minute to observe the house they had stopped in front of.<p>

Two stories high with white paneling, it definitely looked like a home that a typical American family would live in. The porch was large, with a thick, ten-foot pillar, painted white, on each side of the steps. To the left was a large, picture window, above an empty garden. Winter, of course, was the reason there was nothing living in the frozen soil at the moment. Dark drapes blocked any light from the living room to light up the house at the moment, with dark brown shutters framing each of the windows on the top floor.

"Do you grow flowers?"

"Mmhmm." Mary confirmed with a hum. "In the spring, I like to grow a bit of everything. Daffodils, roses, whatever." Shutting the truck door closed, Mary shouldered Kelsey's duffle bag, intending to add it to the load of laundry that was waiting for her inside and motioned with her head in the direction of the house. "Come on, it's cold out here."

Kelsey followed the adults up to the porch, watching John pull out a set of keys and slide a silver one into the lock of a dark brown door, a large square window decorated in gold lines, curved and twisting throughout the glass.

"Boys, we're home!" John called, stamping his boots free of snow and moved out of the way to let the girls in and to remove his outerwear. "Jeez, it's cold out there."

"Hey!" From the living room, hurried two tall men, both clearly in the six foot range.

"Welcome home, Kelse!" the taller of the two greeted Kelsey, flicking his bangs out of his eyes. He smiled at her, showing off the cute dimples and his pearly whites.

"Hi." She greeted with a nervous smile. "You're, um... Dean?"

"Sam," He corrected before pointing to the other man beside him, this one blonde cut short with deep green eyes. "That's Dean."

Dean greeted her with a wave of his hand before shoving it into the pockets of his jeans.

"Oh." Her smile disappeared and was quickly replaced with a grimace. "Sorry."

"Sam, Dean," Mary suggested as she hung her jacket onto a hanger and placed it into the closet before taking Kelsey's. "Why don't you guys take Kelsey on a tour of the house? We'll get dinner started."

The boys nodded and waved for Kelsey to follow them, Sam leading the pack. Kelsey blew the air out from her cheeks but followed anyways, trying to listen and remember what she could. Living room, kitchen, bathroom. Easy enough to find. When it came to the bedrooms, though, it could get tricky about which room belonged to who.

Sam and Dean's rooms were nearly identical in colour and layout. Both rooms painted a deep, royal blue. The décor, however, could not be more different. Whereas Sam's room had two bookshelves lined with books, organized into personal favourites and academics (he was studying to be a lawyer, and was enrolled in Stanford, Kelsey had learned), Dean's had posters of vintage cars and rock bands, and the odd poster of a girl in a bikini plastering his walls. Sam had photos of him and his friends at school set out, Dean had photos of his family and a couple with just him and her. Sam's desk was neat, organized and had his laptop in the middle. Dean didn't have a desk, only a set of nightstands which had a half empty bottle of beer, a couple magazines and an old TV sitting on the top of the long dresser.

"And this is your room," Sam enlightened as he led Kelsey and Dean into the final bedroom. The walls were a deep purple, which matched the comforter on the double sized bed. Two pillows were stacked on top of each other in the middle of the bed, with a fuzzy zebra-print pillow in front of the stack.

"I like purple, I guess." Kelsey clarified as she took a couple steps ahead, allowing her eyes to drift over everything. A bookcase was stacked with a selection of books and magazines, photos of people she didn't recognize. Small trinkets littered one shelf while another held a Winnie The Pooh bear who had obviously seen better days, if the missing eye, tear with stuffing popping out and torn shirt was anything to go on. Finally, a third shelf, about chest height held a small, plastic cosmetics box, and an old wooden jewelry box beside it.

"Why do we still live here?" Kelsey asked curiously as she picked up a photo to study it. In the frame was her, though obviously younger, and another woman with brown hair, her blue eyes warm and caring.

"What do you mean?" Dean answered, tilting his head as if he didn't understand the question.

"Well, we're all adults, right?" She said, replacing the frame to pick up the Winnie the Pooh bear instead. "Why do we still live here? Don't we own our own homes?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm in California at Stanford most of the year, and Dean and yourself have been saving up to move out to your own places."

"Besides, Mom and Dad like having us around too much to kick us out," Dean joked, and Sam snuck a glance at his older brother. He was thankful Dean was able to crack that joke; ever since they had gotten the news of Kelsey's condition, the poor guy had been living in a cloud of depression and guilt.

"Mom and dad?"

"Uh, Mary and John." he confirmed.

"Oh." She blotted her lips before replacing the bear, having given it a thorough looking over.

"Guys, dinner's ready," John interrupted with a knock on the door frame. "Let's go eat."

Pushing off the door frame, John disappeared and Sam followed suit. Dean made it to the doorway before turning when he realized Kelsey hadn't moved. Instead, she was rooted to the spot in front of the bookcase, eyes drifting over the items it held, squinting in thought.

"You coming?"

"Hmm?" Kelsey turned back to Dean, and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear when she realized what he had asked. "Oh, no, I don't think so." Shrugging, she added, "I'm not that hungry."

Dean opened and closed his mouth for a moment, as if deciding on how to answer that question. Finally, he blotted his lips and nodded, and tried to ignore the feeling of distance he felt whenever he had her in his sight. Looking at Kelsey was like looking at a stranger; it was like he didn't know her anymore. Didn't know what would make her laugh, make her cry. The feeling didn't sit right with him, especially because he _did _know that about her. He knew everything about her, and yet, here she was. Standing in her own bedroom without a clue about anything. About him, about their family, about herself.

"Alright, well, uh..." Dean moved towards the door and rolled his shoulders. "If you get hungry, you know where the kitchen is."

"Thanks."

Once the blonde had left, Kelsey let out a sigh and flopped down onto the bed. Laying on her back, she glared at the white ceiling before closing her eyes. Deciding to give up on thinking for the time being, she curled up on her side, and sighed heavily again, letting the quietness of her atmosphere wash over her, and eventually, helped her drift off to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please keep those reviews coming! Also, don't forget, I'm open to suggestions! If there's something you want to see happen, or think I should do, definitely let me know! I might just include it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Still own nothing! But I hope you guys appreciate the pop culture references!**

**Chapter 5**

Life returned to the Winchester household as normally as it could over the next week. Mary and John went back to work, while Sam spent his days catching up on studying and homework. Dean, still recovering from his own injuries, spent his time in front of the television when he wasn't milking Sam's generosity.

"Sammy."

Pause.

"Sammy."

A bit longer pause this time.

"_Sammyyyy."_

"Dude, what?" Sam twisted in his seat, currently situated at the dining room table, a pencil in hand. Thumping it lightly against the heavy textbook, he quirked a brow at his brother. Dean, currently sprawled out along the plush cushions, grinned.

"Nice of you to pay me some attention."

"Dean." Sam huffed and returned back to his book. "Do you want something? 'Cause I'm trying to study."

"I'm _bored._"

There it was. Finally. Sam had been waiting to hear those two words from Dean, knowing they would be said _eventually._ To his credit, Dean hung on a lot longer than Sam thought he would.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

Dean pursed his lips in thought for a minute. "Get me the keys to mom's car?"

Sam frowned in response. Mary had left her car at home, instead choosing to rely on John to drive her to and from work on his own way in, telling him that he could use the car if he needed to. "You're not allowed to drive yet."

"But nobody needs to know."

"That," Sam pointed his pencil at his brother, spinning around in his chair for the second time. "Is _exactly_ what you said when you and Kelsey snuck out to that Offspring concert a few years back."

"And?"

"And I covered for you then. And when you were caught sneaking back in, and Dad caught you guys, we _all_ got nailed for it."

"That was a good time, and you know it, Sammy." Dean laughed, before wincing a little and resting a hand against his right side. "Come on, be a brother, a friend. Just one little spin around the block."

Sam screwed up his mouth in thought. It probably wouldn't be a _bad _thing, and Dean would probably be fast about it too. But, still... Dean was under orders by the doctor, and their parents, not to drive. Not until he was completely healed.

Dean watched his brother in anticipation before groaning and pushing the back of his head into the couch pillow when Sam announced that this was one time he wouldn't hand over the keys.

"I'll drive you, though, if you want to go somewhere." Sam offered, closing the text and standing up. Making his way over to the couch, he stood at the opposite arm where Dean's head was resting, so he could face his brother. "We can go swing by the video store and pick up a couple movies? Maybe grab dinner while we're at it."

Dean thought on that for a moment. That was a good idea, and it would get him out of the house, even if he wasn't the one behind the wheel. But damn, he couldn't wait until his car was fixed. Right now, the smashed up Impala was sitting in the garage, awaiting some much needed love and attention. The back end had been completely destroyed by the truck's collision, the rear bumper torn clean off, while the trunk had collapsed in on itself. The force of the hit had caused the rear windows to shatter, so there was that to add to the To Do List, along with a new wax and paint job.

John had offered to have it take a look at it and begin fixing it himself, but Dean had shot down the idea. Ever since John had tossed over the keys to the sleek 1967 Chevy Impala, the car had become Dean's "baby", as he had affectionately referred to it as. He trusted only himself to build it back up, he told Sam later in confidence. Sam had sarcastically replied he understood. Dean didn't trust anyone to drive the thing, never mind touch it with a tool.

"Sure. Go get Kelse to come with us."

Sam hesitated. "I don't know, Dean. She seems like she wants to be left alone."

Dean gingerly sat up, still holding his sore ribs, and made a mental note to take a painkiller once he got some food in his system. "We're going to be gone for an hour, tops. Getting her out of the house will be good for her. Might trigger something."

That's what he hoped, at least. Ever since Kelsey had come home from the hospital, the girl had kept to herself, kept quiet and barely asked questions. Instead, the boys had observed her exploring her bedroom in detail, running fingers over every photo and trinket that lined her shelves, selecting something to pick up and study once in a while. Her face was often masked with confusion, thought or frustration as she looked over whatever treasure she held in her hands. More than once, Sam and Dean exchanged silent looks, betting on when the redhead would finally break down crying. The Kelsey _they_ knew - the one before the accident - would often cry when she was deeply stressed or frustrated. Dean wanted to find one trigger, just one stimuli that would set off a memory. The first one was always the hardest, he remembered John telling him. Of course, _that_ little gem of advice was about being dumped, but right now, Dean figured it could be relevant to just about anything.

Sam hesitated again, blowing air out of his cheeks before nodding. "Okay. I'll be back." He turned once towards the stairs that lead up to the bedrooms before turning around again. "Need help there first?"

Dean waved his little brother off before standing. "Just go. I need to get outta here before I start climbing the walls."

Sam snickered at the image his brain cooked up before hurrying off upstairs to find the girl. He frowned a little when he checked her room, and found it empty before shrugging it off. She's probably just exploring another area of the house, he debated, but chose to check each bedroom anyways.

With his parents, and his own room empty of the girl, he checked Dean's room and stood in the doorway. Debating quickly if he should say something, he decided against it and waited while she worked through whatever thoughts were going through her head at that moment.

Completely oblivious to her new companion, Kelsey chewed gently on her lower lip as she stood in front of the dark brown bookcase in Dean's room. In her hands, she held a plastic photo frame. Her own face stared back up at her, eyes squinting in the bright sun. Her hair, a light blonde in the photo, had been left loose with a pair of dark, oversized sunglasses resting on top of her head. The man, her companion, she recognized as Dean, sat beside her.

Lightly stroking the photo frame with her index finger, she sighed deeply and closed her eyes for a brief moment before finally noticing Sam in the doorway.

"Oh, Sam..." her mouth opened and closed for a moment, apparently questioning what to say to him before finally settling on "Hey."

"Hey," he greeted with a warm smile. "Whatcha doing?"

"I, uh..." Kelsey shrugged, before holding out the frame to Sam, as if that would answer his question. "Trying to learn, I guess."

Sam took the frame and gave it a once over before nodding. "I remember this. This was last summer."

"But I have blonde hair in that photo." Kelsey questioned, as if she couldn't understand the possibility.

"Yup," Sam nodded in agreement with a grin. "You have a habit of changing up your hair colour every now and then. Depends on your mood, I think."

"Oh." Kelsey returned the nod and bit her lower lip again. It felt like she was saying that a lot lately. Truth was, she really wasn't sure how to respond to anything she was learning about herself. None of it felt real, felt like it was the truth, and she didn't even know what the truth was anymore. That, in itself, was even more trying than having to learn everything all over again. Everyone's names, their likes and dislikes, and secrets, to name a few.

After a moment of silence, Kelsey tilted her head in thought, and washed her gaze over Sam expectantly, who just quirked his brows in questioning.

"Can you tell me about it?" She questioned, answering his silent inquiry.

"Uh, yeah." He shrugged a little, and bobbed his head from side to side in thought. This was weird, having to explain a memory that wasn't even yours to someone who it actually did belong to but didn't know it.

"You and Dean took it at Wescoe Beach, here in Lawrence. We, uh, took a family day trip. It was a couple weeks before I moved out to California for school." Sam explained, handing the frame back to Kelsey to return to it's spot on the shelf. "I know there's a couple more, but I don't think Dean got around to developing the others."

Kelsey jutted out her lips in thought, replacing the frame and took one final thoughtful look with a nod.

"Hey, uh, I don't mean to rush you," Sam started but he thumbed over his shoulder. "But, Dean is thirty seconds away from climbing the walls. Thought maybe it was a good idea to get you and him out of the house for an hour." When Kelsey didn't budge from her spot, just choosing to tilt her head at the suggestion, Sam continued. "We'll be gone for an hour, tops. Going to go pick up some dinner and movies. What do you say? Wanna come?"

"Sure. I could use some fresh air, I think."

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, the trio found themselves entering a Blockbuster close by the house. Sam had refused to drive further than the local strip mall close to home, explaining he didn't want to have to replace the gas he was using. In truth, although both Dean and Kelsey had been in vehicles since the accident, he didn't want to have them experience a panic attack and refuse to get in. If they did, at least the distance from the house to the strip mall wouldn't take any longer than twenty minutes to walk.<p>

"Dude, I am so excited for this." Dean exclaimed, leading the way in with a bounce in his step. "You have no idea."

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the grin. It was good to see his big brother in such a good spirits, instead of the cloud of depression and guilt that had plagued him since he had woken up. While Dean still refused to talk to anyone regarding Kelsey's condition, brushing it off and saying he was fine, Sam could tell his big brother was _still _beating himself up over the accident and would be for a while.

"We get it. But dude, take a breath. It's just a video store."

Dean spun on his heel to face his taller brother, and did his best to look offended. "This is not just a video store, Sam. It's video heaven. We can literally find pretty much any title here, and I'm gonna find us the _best._"

Sam clapped his brother on the shoulder, careful enough to make sure he didn't hurt him but firm enough to bother him. "Sure. You do that."

With a wave, the trio split up to wander the shelves and find their own selections. When the boys finished up and eventually found Kelsey in the Romance and Drama section, she had been holding a copy of Titanic in her hands, reading the synopsis on the back.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Kelsey questioned, looking up at Dean, who was shaking his head in protest.

"We are not renting _that._ Anything but that."

"What's wrong with it? It looks like a good movie." Kelsey held it up so Dean could see the cover better. "This lead guy, Leonardo, he's pretty cute, so bonus eye candy."

"It's a _chick flick_!" Dean protested again, as if that were enough of a reason to avoid getting it. "Sure, the ship hits an iceberg and a bunch of people die, but it's still a _chick flick!_"

Sam snickered at the confusion that swept Kelsey's face and patted Dean on the shoulder, urging him to calm down.

"Way to spoil it for her, Dean." Looking back to the redhead, he explained again. "Dean has this... thing against romance movies."

Kelsey blew her breath out, rolled her eyes and replaced the case on the shelf. "Okay, then, what do you suggest?"

Dean grinned and held up his selections proudly, all older movies from the 1980's. Kelsey took each one and looked them over, looking less and less impressed with each title. "_Batman_... _The Shining_... _Poltergeist_..."

Looking up, she eyed Sam. "Please tell me you chose something out that sounds halfway decent?"

Sam held up his own selections. "_The Running Man, Carrie_ and _The Green Mile_." At Dean's look, as if he were asking what was up with Sam's choices, Sam returned the Look. "What? I'm in a Stephen King mood."

"Then maybe you should rent _It_."

"_Dude_. Don't even joke about that movie."

Kelsey volleyed her gaze between the two of them. "What? Are you scared of clowns, Sam?"

It wasn't exactly a memory but it was enough to get Dean to smile brightly. Kelsey had asked Sam that exact question before, the first time they had tricked Sam into watching the movie when he was eleven years old.

Sam ignored the question, and as if in retaliation, he grabbed the copy of _Titanic_ Kelsey had been looking at earlier and handed it to her. "Dean secretly loves this movie. In fact," he paused and took two steps away, picking up another and handing it to Kelsey, who took it in interest. "He loves this one too."

"_Sweet Home Alabama_?"

"_What_?! No, I don't!"

Sam ignored the looks the trio received from an elderly woman behind Dean, who had looked up at his shriek of protest and the young mom and son who had wandered into the aisle.

"Sure you do, Dean. It came out earlier this year, and you loved it." He nudged his brother teasingly. "We both know you want to be just like Jake, and find your own Melanie."

"Okay there, pal. You're looking for your own Melanie, so when you find her and she asks her what you wanna marry her for, you can say," Dean lifted a hand to air quote the next part of his sentence, "'So I can kiss you anytime I want.'"

There was dead silence for only a few seconds before both Sam and Kelsey burst out laughing, and hard. Dean frowned at the couple. Laughing was not the reaction he wanted. Although, if he were honest, he _was _happy to hear Kelsey's high pitched giggle again. It may have only been a couple weeks, but damn, it was nice to hear.

"Wow, Dean." Kelsey sniffed, as she finally got control of herself a moment later. "For someone who says they're not a fan of chick flicks, you sure are able to quote the movie."

"And know exactly what happens leading up to that quote." Sam added, still letting the odd chuckle out before putting a finger on his lips in a shushing motion. "It's okay. We won't tell. Our little secret."

Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head and moved towards the check out. "Let's go. I want to get the pizza so I can take a pill." He looked back over at his brother and friend. "What about you, Kelse? Feeling okay?"

Kelsey shrugged lightly, trying to avoid wincing. As great as it had felt to laugh a few seconds ago, her injuries were definitely striking back. She had definitely not healed as quickly as Dean was, and so, her ribs and head were both screaming at her for the painkillers. Like Dean, though, she'd need food before she could take them, lest she vomit everything back up.

Sam seemed to pick up on the pain that the girl was feeling. He knew Dean was not at the top of his game (and admitted to wanting a painkiller, something he would avoid as long as possible), which meant that Kelsey was absolutely feeling pain. After all, she had been the worse off between the two. Taking all the movies, Sam handed them to the cashier, and handed over the rental member card before paying for the rentals and leading them back out to his mom's sedan.

Making a quick pit stop off at _Luigi's_, the local pizza joint, Sam picked up and paid for the two pies while Dean and Kelsey waited in the car. Sliding back in, Sam handed the white boxes over to Dean, and pulled out of the lot before heading home.

Once everyone was inside, Dean practically tore into the pizza, only using a plate after accepting one from his brother.

"Mmmf, fffhis is good!" Dean mumbled happily as he chomped down on a slice of Meat Lover's.

Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother's eating habits before moving to the cabinet above the dishwasher where medication was stored. Finding Dean's, he tossed the pill container to his brother and moved to hand Kelsey her's.

Kelsey accepted it with thanks, swallowing the bite she had before fishing out a pill. Popping the thick, pink capsule in her mouth, she washed it down with a mouthful of water, and handed Sam back the container.

"Guys, we're home!"

Mary popped her head into the kitchen, followed by John, once the pair had removed their jackets and boots, stamping off the snow. She smiled and nodded in approval. "Pizza for dinner. Nice."

Dean swallowed the last bite of his slice, popped his own pill and washed it down. "There's still some left,"

Mary wandered over to the boxes and lifted the lid. Meat Lovers and a Cheese. Pulling a plate down, she handed one to John before selecting a Cheese slice and joining the trio at the table. The conversation worked it's way to everyone's day, and ended with Dean urging Sam and Kelsey to hurry up because he wanted to make popcorn and get settled in front of the TV again.

"But you just ate?"

"And?"

"You're like a stomach with legs, Dean. Seriously." Sam remarked before popping in Poltergeist, which Dean had strong-armed Sam into watching first. ("House rules, Sammy. Injured picks the movie, healed shuts his cake hole." Dean had pointed out, which earned him, what he liked to call, Sam's Epic Bitch Face.)

Getting into a comfortable slouch on the couch, Sam picked a spot on the floor with Kelsey, who chose to sit just beside Dean's legs and drew her own knees up while hugging a pillow. Prepared with pillows and popcorn, the trio were in for a long movie marathon.

* * *

><p><strong>Don't forget to review! A big thank you to everyone who has so far, and has added me to their Author Alert lists! I love knowing people are watching for my updates!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: ****Still own nothing, which is an utter shame. ****Also, parts of this were inspired by The Vow but will not be following that movie storyline. ****I'm definitely going to keep things as canonical as possible where I can, like Dean's love for pie, Sam's schooling, show quotes, you name it.**

**Chapter 6**

The little movie marathon that Dean, Sam and Kelsey started lasted well into the night. John and Mary had joined "the kids", as they had called the trio, to watch the second movie, _Carrie_ (which, when Dean tried to call House Rules _again_, saying the injured gets to pick the movie, Sam protested that there was no such thing, and the only House Rules he knew of, applied to the car). After that, the parents had called it a night.

It wasn't until just before midnight did they start _Sweet Home__Alabama_, Kelsey's pick this time, that Sam announced he was going to head to bed for the night. Kelsey offered to turn off the movie, and watch it tomorrow, but the taller brother insisted they continue.

"Besides, Dean can't wait until they get to the loooove." Sam teased with a laugh, always wanting to take a dig at his brother, before taking a face full of pillow as Dean promptly whipped the cushion at him.

Once Sam was gone and Kelsey drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping an arm around them from her spot on the cushions.

"You don't need to watch it with me," Kelsey offered with a small grin. "I know Sam's just teasing you."

Dean shook his head as he settled back beside her, having moved to get the player ready. "No, it's cool. Besides, it's not _that_ bad of a movie."

Reaching down, he grabbed hold of the bowl of popcorn they had been snacking on and popped a few pieces into his mouth.

Kelsey reached in, grabbed a handful and ate it while the film played. At one point, about a half-hour in, she felt a strong urge to cuddle up against the man. So she did.

Dean, having been silent up until that point, quirked a brow and looked over as he felt Kelsey's head press against his shoulder, curling up a bit as she did, and clasping her hands together against her own chest. This was the first bit of physical interaction that Kelsey had allowed _anyone_ to have with her, even if it was initiated by her, since the accident, and it took him by surprise.

"Sorry," she apologized after a moment, interpreting that Dean did not want her there by the way he had tensed up, and pulled away.

"No no, it's okay." He reassured her, tilting his head in thought. "You good? I mean, this movie isn't exactly _terrifying _or anything."

The woman shook her head, and tucked a red lock of hair behind her ear. "Sorry... I just... got this urge to cuddle." She paused, bit her lip and looked away. "It's stupid."

Dean let a small grin play across his face. This was a good thing, this was a very good thing. Lifting his arm up, he motioned for her to cuddle up against him, and when she did, he wrapped his right arm around her, pulling her in closer. He felt the weight of her head as she pressed it against the front of his shoulder. Dean did, however, fight the urge to kiss her hair.

Settling in, Kelsey let herself relax and tried to focus on the movie. But instead, she found herself focusing on everything but. The hard form of Dean's chest, the strong but comforting arm that encircled her and kept her in place. The musky scent of his cologne. The gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and then out. Closing her eyes for just a brief moment, both out of exhaustion and the need to focus, it happened.

At first, it was just one flash. One photograph in her mind, coupled with a strong feeling. The two of them, curled up on the couch, just like they. Then came more, with stronger feelings and urges. Kelsey had to close her eyes, knitting her brows together and without meaning to, had tensed up and balled part of Dean's green tee in her hand.

"Kelse?" Dean questioned slowly, staying as still as he could but eyeing her all the same. He really couldn't help the nickname slip from his mouth. Besides, she had never objected to it, so he used it. "You okay?"

Snapping her eyes open as his voice cut into her thoughts, she looked up and blinked owlishly at him for a moment. So he repeated the question again, green eyes still locked on her form. Concern was evident in his eyes.

"I, uh..." Kelsey looked away, brows still knit together, but now in frustration, as if she didn't know how to respond. Finally, she responded in a low whisper of uncertainty and nervousness. "We've done this before."

"Huh?" Dean tilted his ear closer to her, hoping he had heard what he thought she had said.

"We've done this before." Kelsey repeated, finally looking back at him. "Haven't we?"

Yahtzee. He hadn't misheard, and he definitely did not misunderstand. He knew she was referring to their current position. Instead of answering her question, he responded with one of his own

"Did you remember something?"

"I... I think so. I don't know." She pulled away to face him and ran a hand through her hair. Dean ignored the urge to protest at the lack of extra warmth and weight. "I saw... flashes, I guess you could say. Of you and me doing this _exact_ thing." A pause. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

He allowed a bright grin to cross his face, definitely more excited about this newest development than he tried to let on. "You're not crazy." He paused for a moment himself, trying to decide how to explain. Finally, he decided to just be blunt.

"We've done this. The whole chick-flick cuddling thing." Dean confirmed, shifting himself to a side-sitting position and slung an arm along the back of the couch. "It's kind of our... thing we do when we watch movies." With a shrug, he added, "We've been doing that for years, now that I think about it."

"So we've been friends for a long time then?"

"Yup. Ever since we were kids." He confirmed with a bob of his head.

The movie, now forgotten, continued to play on in the background as Kelsey mulled over this new information, Dean waiting patiently for new questions as she did so. With so many going through her head, coupled with these flashes - this memory - it was beginning to hurt again. But there was at least one question she _had_ to ask Dean, now that she had this new piece of information.

"Are we a couple?"

Brows raised at the question, almost as if he didn't understand. "Couple?"

"Yeah. Boyfriend and girlfriend?" She asked, as if it were supposed to be obvious what she meant.

Dean felt his chest tighten and had to remind himself to breathe, not sure why the question was throwing him off. It was a routine question he had been asked many times before by friends and even family. He refused to think that being thrown off his game was because of _who _was asking that question.

"Uh... no." He shook his head with a tiny smirk, pretending as if the thought were laughable. "We're nothing like that. Just friends."

"Was there ever anything between us?"

They really needed to get off the topic, Dean decided. It was definitely making him uncomfortable. "Nada."

Kelsey wanted to fire question after question, but had a sneaking suspicion that whatever their personal history held, Dean didn't want to go into depth about it. At least, not tonight. So she bit her tongue and bobbed her head in response before shifting her attention back to the movie.

Dean debated about inviting her to cuddle up against him for a second time that night, but ultimately decided to leave her to her thoughts. He was sure it was a lot to take in, and they had already been warned about overwhelming her with overloaded information. That was the last thing he wanted. On the bright side, Kelsey had finally remembered _something _important. And, as a bonus, it had been about him. He'd look forward to his bragging rights in the morning.

* * *

><p>"Sam, wake up."<p>

Sam groaned into his pillow as he felt extra weight on his bed, and then a large hand shaking him eagerly.

"Sammy!"

"Mmmwha?" Sam groaned again and rolled over from his stomach to his side before cracking his eyes open. Finding his older brother there, sitting on the side of his bed and shaking him awake, Sam immediately shut his eyes again.

"Dean, go 'way. It's 'aturday."

The excited shaking continued. "Dude, this is _important._ You need to wake up."

Sam sighed dramatically, before opening them again and yawning. Taking a look at the clock on his nightstand, he noticed it was only 9:00am. "This had better be good."

When he was sure he had his younger brother's attention, Dean grinned brightly, his eyes bright with excitement. "Guess what happened?"

Sam squinted in the bright sunlight that was flooding through the open curtains of his room, taking a moment to think about what possibly could've happened in the last nine hours that would get his brother this excited.

"Did mom make pie?" he ventured, already deciding if that was the reason for his early wake up call, Dean would regret it. He knew about Dean's undying love for the stuff, but that was still no excuse for waking up before noon on a weekend.

"God, I _wish_. Try again."

"Ugh, Dean..." Sam pleaded and lightly tried to shove the shorter man off his bed. "I wanna sleep."

"Try again, and I'll leave you alone."

Sam blew air out from his cheeks hard and took another moment to think about it. Finally, he answered, "Bobby's gonna come visit and help you with the Impala?"

Another shake of the head. "Close, but no cigar. One more, Sammy!"

Dean was really going to regret this wake up call, Sam decided. "Um... I got nothin'." He admitted, lifting a hand to rub sleep from his eyes. Clearly, there was no chance of going back to sleep. Not until he was informed about whatever important thing his brother decided he needed to hear.

His older brother grinned again, excited as a little kid at Christmas. "Kelsey had a memory come back last night."

Now _this _was worth getting up for, Sam thought. Sitting up, he blinked and raised his brows in surprise. "Yeah? What happened?"

Dean eagerly launched into the events that happened after Sam had gone to bed, telling him everything and ended his story with a smug, shit-eating grin. "This means, clearly, I'm the stimuli."

"Or maybe, it was the cuddling thing. Maybe you weren't the stimuli." Sam pointed out, quirking a brow. "I mean, it could've been you, sure. But that's 'cause Kelsey and I sure don't cuddle, and she's not curling up with mom and dad. Maybe it was the behaviour itself. You said she said she had an urge."

"Well, yeah, but still."

Sam shook his head, running a hand through the shaggy brown hair. It was too early to disagree about something. "Either way, this is a good thing, Dean."

The blonde nodded in agreement, and was about to get up when Sam stopped him.

"What are you gonna tell her when more memories of you and her come back? Or she starts asking questions?"

"There is no 'me and her', Sam."

His brother scoffed. "Yeah, okay."

Dean knit his brows together in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam just responded by giving his brother a Look. When Dean just shrugged, Sam sighed dramatically and shook his head.

"It's obvious you care about her, and always have, Dean. And with the way that you two act sometimes, it's a wonder why you guys aren't already together." Sam started counting off on his fingers as he made a verbal list. "The 'not-cuddling', the Just Because drives and deep talks she will only have with you, that one time you got her flowers-"

"That was because she had a shitty day." Dean tried to argue.

"You got her roses." Sam replied, trying to look serious, but the smug grin that showed he knew he was right. "White roses, in fact. Which are her favourite. Friends don't go out and drop money like that on friends who have had a bad day. No, they call up the friend who had a bad day and listens to an hour-long rant." He shrugged lightly. "Face it, man. You're practically a boyfriend, but without the title."

Dean puckered his lips and thought this over. Sure, okay, _fine._ He cared about Kelsey, and sure, he may have done "boyfriend" stuff, if one could _really_ call it that. But feelings? Stuff garbage romance movies were made of? Pffft, no, he definitely did _not_ have those for her. Nope. If anything, he chalked it up to them being friends for years, ever since they were kids and she moved in. Aside from the one kiss they shared at her Sweet 16th birthday party years ago, they had never dated, or slept together or anything. One little kiss didn't mean anything, and was not a basis for romantic feelings. This, Dean was sure of.

Sam waited patiently for Dean to say something, and when he didn't, Sam shook his head again. "Dude, you know you're gonna have to talk to her eventually about your past with her. She's gonna ask, or remember. She already asked me about the photo of you and her at the beach last summer."

Dean looked up to Sam, his eyes raising up from where he had been staring at his lap. "What? When was this?"

"Yesterday. She was in your room, looking at your photos." He shrugged his giant shoulders again. "So, what are you gonna tell her?"

Dean rubbed his eyebrow with a finger and returned Sam's shrug.

Sam yawned again, hiding it with a hand and nodded to his bedroom door. "So, are you done being an excited 12-year old? Can I go back to sleep yet?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dean gave in and reached over, annoyingly ruffling Sam's bed-head hair, until Sam swatted his hand away. "But I can't promise the parental units won't be up to drag you out soon to help with shoveling snow."

Sam groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the mattress. "I swear, dude. Wait until you're fully healed and cleared for 'active duty'. I won't be so generous then."

Dean snickered and moved out of the doorway. "Thanks, Sammy. I owe you one."

Once he had closed Sam's door behind him, he decided to head down to the garage and take a look at his broken down Baby. He couldn't wait to get better so he could start giving the Impala some much needed tender loving care. God, it had only been a couple weeks, but he missed driving so bad.

For now, though, he decided, the Impala needed his attention. Stopping by to grab a notebook from his room and a pen, he threw on a sweatshirt and headed into the chilly garage for a couple hours, to take refuge from his own head, and thoughts.

* * *

><p><strong>You all know the drill :) Review, suggest, say hey! They make me happy :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks, again, for everyone's reviews, favourite-adding and Story-Alerting for this story. It definitely makes me happy and I look forwards to them! At least I know I don't completely suck!**

**Also, I got a message from an anyomous reader who said they wanted to see some tears, and a cute fluff moment between our not-couple. So, here we go :)**

**Chapter 7**

Dean spent a good portion of the day in the garage, making lists of parts he had to replace in the Impala and what order he wanted to do it in. The trunk and back bumper were definitely at the top, considering the amount of damage it had taken during the collision. The back windows would also need to be replaced.

Sighing, he scrunched up his mouth. It was going to take money to get the parts he needed. The Impala wasn't exactly a new car, considering it was a 1967 model, and certain parts did not come cheap. Sure, the insurance companies were getting involved and he would receive monetary compensation from the other driver's company, but it would've been nice to get everything covered. That wouldn't happen - insurance companies never liked paying their clients.

"Maybe Bobby'll have parts laying around," he mumbled to himself, thinking of his unofficial uncle who ran the Singer Salvage Yard in South Dakota. While Bobby was not a blood relative, he was a good and old friend of John and Mary's, and therefore practically family to Sam and Dean. The guy even held a soft spot for Kelsey, who wasn't blood to anyone.

His thoughts drifted back to her, and what Sam had told him earlier that morning. Kelsey was something he had managed to avoid thinking about for the last couple hours, but now, it was like he couldn't stop.

Sam had said they were practically a couple but without the title, him and Kelsey. At one point, Dean supposed, he may or may not have had feelings for the girl. Puppy love, he could call it, back when they were young teenagers. He was, after all, her first kiss. She hadn't been his, but he had known as soon he had kissed her that he was definitely hers.

He couldn't deny the girl was pretty - with large, green eyes that lit up like Christmas lights when she got excited, or darkened like stormy seas when she was upset, and a mass of red hair, for the moment, she was a far cry from his usual type of blonde, and big busted, and "kind of stupid", Sam had once said.

A small smile played across his lips as he thought about the difference between Kelsey and other girls he knew. Other girls he had dated could be constant flirts, and always try to make a good impression, or come off as desirable. They would twirl a lock of hair, and offer up a flirty smile or compliment, and when the opportunity was there, steal a kiss. Some girls were quick to make it known they wouldn't mind some special attention between the sheets. Those were the girls that Dean often found only wanted one-night stands, or the ones that didn't want that, wanted something long-term.

Dean didn't do commitment. Something about promising to love one single person forever until your dying breath seemed a bit ridiculous. Feelings changed, people grew, and effort stopped getting put in. Offering yourself up to someone only to have them change and decide they didn't want you anymore - that was exactly why Dean didn't want to do the relationship thing. Promises could be broken, and aside from his own parents, he saw them happen quite a bit.

Kelsey, on the other hand, was different from those other girls. She took life as it hit her, day by day. She didn't worry about her number of partners, or getting the phone number of whomever the cute bartender of the night was. She much more preferred living life, and making memories. Being silly, even. More than once, he had walked in from work or as he was getting ready to go out with friends, and found the girl dancing around in the kitchen or singing along to some crappy pop song in her bedroom. She had no qualms about being different. She had no qualms about making something last. Her two relationships had lasted a little over a year, each. Dean remembered when her first one ended, she had spent an entire day crying before telling him (as he was threatening to go pound the guy) that maybe there was a lesson to be learned from it all.

"After all, Dean, that's what life is, right? A bunch of lessons that we're supposed to learn?" she had asked. Dean hadn't had a response to that thought.

All of that was what made Dean almost want to try the commitment thing. It didn't feel like commitment would be such a bad thing with her. But, she had never expressed interest in a romantic sense and he had never been able to work up the courage to ask her out. Instead, whenever the question "So, are you two together?" arose, or some variation of "Why aren't you two dating?" questioned, the pair would just shrug with a smile and move on with the topic of conversation.

Maybe that was why he was having a hard time blaming himself for the car accident. He had been driving. Going to the movies had been his idea. His dad had even tried to talk them out of it, had said the roads weren't the greatest, but Dean had really wanted to see the movie and Kelsey had expressed interest in going too. So they had gone.

And now, Kelsey had no idea about who he was, or who Sam or their parents were. She had no idea about her own parents, where they were or how they were doing. _That_ was a conversation that had not been brought up yet by the girl, even after being out of the hospital for over a week. Dean would've figured that would be one of the first things she would've asked about. Then again, Kelsey had always had a habit of keeping things up to herself.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he hummed to himself as he re-read the list. But soon got distracted by a sniffle.

He frowned and tilted his ear in the direction that he heard it. He hadn't closed the door to the garage completely, and it sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

There was another sniffle, a sad one and a shaky breath.

With the frown etched onto his face, Dean rested the notebook down on the hood of the Impala before heading through the door and into the warm kitchen. There, he found the source of the sound.

"Kelsey?"

The girl in question jolted her head up and twisted in her chair to look at Dean, and her face went red in embarrassment before quickly turning back around so Dean was staring at the back of her. He could see her quickly wipe her face before he closed the door and moved slowly over to the table.

"What's wrong?"

When he received no answer, he hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder, feeling her tense up a bit, sniffling all the while. Pulling out the chair beside her at the table, he plopped down on it and bent over to catch a look at her face.

Her face was pink, with clear tear tracks down her cheeks. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her nose and lips puffy from all the crying she had done. The white bandage that had been on her forehead had been removed, the gash healing nicely but would probably leave a faint scar. Most of the cuts that had littered her face had faded.

Realizing he was looking at her, Kelsey had quickly turned her face away from him. "Nothing."

"Ahh, now you wouldn't be crying if it were nothing." Dean reached over and slid a hand onto her back, rubbing it gently. Tense or not tense, until she told him to back off, he would try his best to comfort her.

It took a long, few moments before she spoke. So long that Dean was preparing to repeat the question.

"I burned dinner."

Dean bobbed his mouth open and closed for a moment like a fish gulping for water before shutting it and quirking his brows in question. _That _was what this was about?

"Huh?" He finally asked after a moment, it coming out confused.

Kelsey, still refusing to look at him, lifted a hand and pointed it in the direction of the stove. Looking over, Dean paused in rubbing her back before getting up to inspect the dishes on top.

Lasagna was in a glass pan, the top black and still smoking. Dean was no cook, but he would bet dollars to doughnuts that lasagna wasn't supposed to look like that.

"Well, uh... the top's a bit... crusty, but maybe the middle is cooked...?"

That set off a fresh set of tears from the redhead at the table and Dean instantly felt bad. He really thought that comment would've made her a bit happier, and help her see that he kind of, sort of had faith in her cooking.

Turning on his heel, he rested his hands on his hips. "It's just lasagna, Kelse."

"You don't get it." She cried, propping her elbows on top of the white table, and buried her face in her hands. "It's not just lasagna."

"... Is it magic lasagna?" Dean tried joking.

Kelsey finally looked up, and glared at the man, silently telling him this wasn't the time for jokes. "That's not funny. Your parents and Sam are gonna be home soon, and there's no dinner ready." She furiously wiped her tears off her cheeks again, desperately trying to get the tears to stop. "I forgot I had it in the oven, because I forgot the set the timer. And I just wanted to do something nice so I tried cooking dinner."

She pointed at the cook book that lay on the counter beside the stove, opened to a page that detailed how to make homemade lasagna. "And I ended up burning it, Dean!"

Dean sighed and moved back over to his chair, resuming rubbing her back as the poor girl cried. Eventually, when she didn't stop, he did what he would do best when she cried, and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in against his chest. When she didn't protest, or push him off, he rested his chin on the top of her head and resumed rubbing her back.

"Hey, hey, it's cool. It's just food." He cooed after a long moment of silence. "Besides, the whole forgetful thing is normal. They told you that before you left the hospital."

"I know, but-"

"No buts. It happens, Kelse. So long as you didn't burn the house down, mom and dad won't care." He joked again, unable to take something like crying over burnt food seriously. "I get that you wanted to do something nice for us, I can appreciate that, but it happens. If it makes you feel better, Sam can't cook either."

Kelsey sniffed, her hot tears soaking the front of his AC/DC tee, arms curled into her own body as Dean bear-hugged her. When the tears slowed down, and he could feel her calm down, Dean loosened his hold on her and pushed her back a little so he could look down.

"We can still make dinner fancy."

Kelsey wiped the final few tears from her cheeks and rolled her shoulders. "How?"

Dean grinned brightly. "We can get some Chinese or something. Put it on some fancy plates. Eat with class and tell everyone you made it."

That grin made Kelsey snort out a laugh. "That sounds good." Motioning to his tear-stained shirt, she continued, her voice hoarse from the crying. "I'm sorry."

"Eh, it's just a shirt. Just tears." Dean shrugged, completely letting go before standing up and crossing the tiled floor to one of the drawers. Pulling the second top drawer open, he dug through the papers and yanked out a stack of take out menus, returning to the table.

"Time to decide what grub is good."

* * *

><p>Later that night, after a take out of Chinese was enjoyed on fancy dinner plates, Kelsey appeared in the living room where the Winchesters were watching TV. It was Mary who first noticed the girl standing in the door frame, a picture frame in her hand.<p>

She offered Kelsey a smile. "Coming to join?"

Kelsey offered a tiny smile back, and shifted. "Do you guys have a minute?"

Mary nodded, and shut off the TV with the remote, ignoring the protests from her husband and sons. "What's up?"

Kelsey licked her lips, then looked down at the frame in her hands before handing it to the blonde female. "Can you tell me who this is?"

Mary took the frame and studied it for a moment, finding Kelsey's younger face and that of another female, a brunette this time, looking back up at her. Vibrant green trees littered the background, a swing set and slide evident.

"Oh, you must've only been about 13 when this was taken," she commented, eyes tracing every detail of the photo. Feeling John move closer to study it himself, she nodded. "Yeah, this was taken right before you came to live with us."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks but kept quiet to listen to the conversation. They both remembered that particular time.

"So, who is she?"

John was the one to answer this time. "That's your mom, Jennifer. Or Jen, as she went by."

"My mom?" Kelsey parroted, remaining standing despite Mary's invitation to come join them on the couch. "What about my dad?"

Mary and John exchanged looks, silently discussing the best way to go about telling this story before Mary took another long look at the photo. Handing the frame back, she pursed her lips, but was gentle when she spoke, quiet as if speaking too loud or harsh would upset the girl.

"Your dad, Rob, left when you were just a kid. Probably about nine or ten. You haven't seen him in years." She explained gently. Every part of her hated this conversation already, and they weren't even in the thick of it. "Your mom lives in Malibu."

The information, as simple and short as it had been, hit Kelsey and she felt very confused and hurt. None of it made sense. "Why does she live in Malibu, and I live here with you?"

John didn't answer, instead choosing to focus on his sons with a look that made it clear the order was not up for discussion. "Guys, out."

The two looked like they wanted to argue that order, but ultimately sighed in defeat. Standing up, they brushed past the girl on their way out, both clapping Kelsey on the shoulder in encouragement. John waited until the thundering of his sons steps had quieted, indicating they had gone upstairs, to speak.

"Your mom was sick." He answered bluntly, ignoring Mary's look that suggested there may have been an easier way to put it. "When your dad walked out, your mom started drinking. Just a glass of wine here and there, but that one or two became a bottle and spun out of control. Your mom stopped being able to take care of you."

"We were close friends with your mom," Mary added, keeping her blue gaze on the redhead. "When she needed help, we got her in to a treatment facility in Malibu, and took custody of you. Tried to keep your life as normal as possible." She shrugged lightly. "You've been with us ever since."

Kelsey blinked rapidly, finally moving over to the arm chair before sinking into it, needing to sit for a minute. "I don't..." She scrubbed a hand down her face, taking a deep breath. "Do I talk to her? Or, or, see her?"

"You and her call once in a while, and send letters every now and then, but in the last couple years or so?" John shook his head. "You haven't had much contact."

"Why not?"

"No idea." He admitted. "It just kind of stopped. You stopped taking calls, she stopped sending letters. And you wouldn't talk about it."

There was a long pregnant moment of silence, as the information hit her again. Kelsey's eyes were unfocused, as she thought over all of this. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but was so emotionally drained from the last couple of weeks, she didn't know which ones to ask. Finally, without looking at either of the adults, she settled on an important one. "Why did you take me in?"

"Like we said," Mary answered, soothingly repeated again. The forgetfulness hadn't been as bad as she had thought, but she still found herself having to repeat things every once in a while, even if she had said it only a couple minutes before. "We were friends with your mom. You were in the same grade as Dean, and you trusted us. Figured if we could keep your life as normal as possible, meaning we keep you in the same school and city with people you already know, then maybe living without your mom constantly would be a bit easier on you."

A slow, heavy nod, Kelsey keeping her attention on the photo in her hand. She blinked heavily, and felt a strong urge to cry again. What was with her emotions? Was she always so emotional? She blinked heavily, tiredly.

It was at that point John gestured to the stairs with his hand. "Maybe you should go to bed. It's a lot to take in, and you might feel better in the morning."

"Okay," she agreed before standing up and moving to the staircase. At the last minute, she turned on her heel and headed back to the couple who remained there. Bending over, she gave each of them a hug, not only feeling the strongest urge to do (not one unlike the urge she felt with Dean the previous night), but thankful for their generosity too.

"Thank you," she whispered, tightly hugging both John and Mary in turn. Finally letting go, she blotted her lips. "For everything. Goodnight."

With a wave, and then shoving her hands into her pockets, Kelsey paused briefly to catch her own "Goodnights" from the couple before heading upstairs. Without bothering to change, or do her teeth (promising herself she'd do a better job in the morning), she wandered into her own bedroom that she was becoming increasingly familiar with, and yanked down the sheets before sliding on in. Pulling them back up to her chest, Kelsey curled up and sighed deeply before letting herself fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope that was good fluff for you! Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: ****Thank you to all my newest followers and those who added me to their Story and/or Author alerts! ****That makes me super happy to know that people are watching this story for an update! ****As always, don't hesitate to review and offer up any praise, or suggestions of scenes or things you'd like to see happen (I love taking requests!) and constructive criticism. ****I'm no J.K. Rowling, but I am trying!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 8**

The Winchester house was dead silent that night, everyone tucked into bed and sleeping peacefully. All but one.

It was a scream that awoke Sam, who had stretched his tall frame out underneath the mountain of blankets on his bed. He had happily rolled from his back to his side, hugging half of his pillow to him and burying his face into it. Snapping his eyes open, he blinked for a minute, thinking he had just imagined it.

But the scream continued, and it sound way too high pitched to be either Dean's or his dad's. Throwing off his covers, Sam darted to his feet and stumbled quickly out of his room, hearing the scream close.

Throwing open the door to Kelsey's room, he paused only briefly enough to see the redheaded girl arching her back off the bed, the thin blanket covering her balled up in her hands tightly. The comforter and other blankets had been kicked off during the fit.

"Kelsey," Sam called, moving over to the bed and resting one knee on the mattress as he leaned over her. Gently, he grabbed her shoulders, mostly to stop her moving, but also to try to calm her down. At the touch, her screams quieted but quickly, sobbing took over. "Kelsey, wake up."

She sobbed, still sleeping until Sam gave her a couple rough shakes. Snapping her eyes open, and seeing the younger Winchester brother looming over her, she sobbed out a cry and pushed at his arms, indicating she wanted him to let go of her. Sam did, but took a cautious seat on her mattress, watching as she bolted up and backed up until her back hit the headboard, hugging her pillow tightly.

"You okay?" he asked gently, before the bright light of the bedroom snapped on. Sam hissed in displeasure, covering his eyes with a large hand at the sudden brightness.

"Sam?"

Mary stood at the door with Dean and John, all three clearly having been woken up, with concern mixed with tiredness crossing their faces.

"I think she had a nightmare," he answered with a nod in Kelsey's direction, squinting as he uncovered his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light. Kelsey had burrowed her own face into the pillow, still sobbing quietly to herself.

"Kelsey?" Mary cooed quietly, making her own way over but pausing before reaching the bed. Tenderly, she placed a hand on top of the girl's head, letting her fingers gently stroke back the red locks. Surprisingly, she didn't flinch from the contact, but did tense a bit. "Are you okay?"

There was a long pause before the sobs quieted and she nodded, but never lifted her face from the cotton.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, and feeling the scruff starting to grow, Dean absently remembered he would need to shave in the morning. As much as he wanted sleep, and let Sam deal with the situation, having been there first, he shook his head instead. He wouldn't be able to sleep until he was sure Kelsey was okay, at least for the meantime. His voice was rough with tiredness as he suggested: "I got this, you guys go back to bed."

It was much too late to argue, so Mary just nodded and gave a final gentle stroke of Kelsey's hair before moving to kiss her son's cheek. "You get yourself some sleep, too."

"I will," Dean agreed, bidding his parents goodnight before they went back to bed. Looking back to Sam, he caught his little brother looking at him with interest, and if he weren't mistaken, smugness.

Dean couldn't pull a reason off the top of his head as to why Sam would be looking at him like that. He didn't even consider the possibility that he was inadvertently proving Sam's point he had made the previous morning about being the 'boyfriend'.

Finally, he asked Sam, with a shrug, "What?"

"Nothing." Sam just grinned, getting to his feet, clearly having found amusement in _something_ regarding his brother. He just snickered to himself as he left, giving Dean a light punch on the shoulder with a "Go get her, Tiger."

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. So _that _was what Sam had found amusing. Once he was sure the others had returned to their own rooms, and it had given time for Kelsey to calm down on her own, he took a seat on her mattress. He refused to extend a hand, not sure what her reaction would be if he touched her.

"Kelse?" He paused, as he hunched over a bit and rested an elbow on his right knee that he had drawn up onto the mattress as well. "It's okay now, you're fine. It was just a bad dream."

It took a long, few minutes before green eyes peeked out from the pillow, still wet with unshed tears.

Dean took this as a good sign and finally extended that hand, to rest it on the empty space of the pillow. He gave it a gentle, but firm tug to lower it so he could see more of her face. Although she kept a tight grip on the pillow itself, she didn't fight to put her makeshift shield back up.

"You're okay, you're fine." He quietly reassured her again. He paused, unsure of how to go about this conversation. Licking his lips in thought, Dean tilted his head a bit. "What did you dream about?"

He could hear a shaky breath escape her and then mumble something, avoiding his eyes. He tilted his head a bit more, turning his ear in her direction as if that would help.

"What was that?"

Kelsey paused and lowered the pillow even more to reveal her whole face, but kept hugging the pillow. With her lower lip trembling, she swallowed and replied, almost just as quietly. "I think it was about the night I moved in..."

Dean just stared at her for a long moment, taking a deep breath. He remembered that night, even though it was almost ten years ago.

_Kelsey and her mom had come over for dinner, at Mary and John's invitation. The meal had gone well enough, with light conversation and laughter about everyone's day and current life. Probably against their better judgment, in hindsight, a couple bottles of red had been cracked open, with Jen polishing off nearly a full bottle herself by the time the pie for dessert had been served._

_Excusing themselves from the table to watch TV, Sam, Dean and Kelsey had disappeared into the living room while the adults remained conversing in the kitchen. Things had been peaceful enough until Jen reached over to the second bottle of the evening, taking hold of it to pour herself another glass._

_"Sorry for being clumsy." She had laughed a reply as she misaimed and spilt some red wine onto the table top. Placing the wine bottle back, she took her napkin to mop it off, ignoring the protests from Mary that it was really alright. "No no, I got it."_

_She smiled happily at the couple, her cheeks taking on a pink tinge, indicating that she was buzzed, if not drunk already. "So, guys, looking forwards to having the kids home for the summer?"_

_"Yeah, they're excited for their trip to Sioux Falls," Mary replied with a nod, cautiously watching as her friend sipped on what had to have been her fifth glass of the night._

_"That's great they get to go see your Bobby friend. He's, uh, an uncle?"_

_"Old friend of mine," John confirmed. "But close enough of one to the boys."_

_"You know," Mary suggested, taking a small sip of her own wine. She fought to keep her voice casual, bracing herself for whatever twists and turns this conversation would take. "John and I were talking earlier, and we were thinking that maybe it would be nice for Kelsey to join the boys for a couple weeks."_

_Jen's thin, brown brows raised. "Oh?"_

_Mary bobbed her head with a smile. "Yeah. They're all super close, and are used to spending the summer together anyway." She paused, and quickly glanced at her husband, who was silent and probably preparing himself for Jen's next reaction. "We just thought it would be nice if you had some time to yourself, to work through things."_

_Jen's reaction to that comment was almost instantaneous. Her gaze darkened, and her smile disappeared, lips twisting into a frown. "What is that supposed to mean?"_

_Mary took a moment to think about how she wanted to word this, and took a sip of her liquid courage in her hand. "Well... we can't imagine it's been easy these last couple years, since Rob left, and you know kids can be a handful..."_

_"So, what? Are you saying I can't handle my own kid?" Her tone was clipped, short, and it was evident this conversation was going to turn south very quickly._

_"That's not what we're saying." John cut in, putting down his own beer to stare at the brunette woman intently. "We're just saying that maybe you have some personal things you might want to work through, and we're offering to take your daughter off your hands while you do that."_

_"Personal things?" she parroted, as if she had no idea what the man was talking about._

_"Yeah. Like, the drinking, for one."_

_"John!" Mary voiced, eyes wide in surprise at how blunt he had answered that question._

_Her husband cast a dark glance at her, silently questioning her protest. When they had discussed between themselves about having this conversation with Jen, they hadn't exactly discussed what to say. But John could be a stubborn and blunt bastard at times, and Mary knew that, so why was she so surprised?_

_Jen, herself, glared at the man. Her voice raised in anger after downing the rest of her wine. "So I like to drink. I'm an adult, there's nothing wrong with that."_

_"Not when you have a fourteen year old daughter to look after!" John's booming voice shot back, his whole body tensing up. "Do you really think she likes seeing you like you are right now?"_

_The brunette woman just glared again before pushing herself to her feet, swaying unsteadily for just a brief moment. "You don't know anything about my kid. I will raise her how I damn well please. I don't need you or Mary, and I sure as hell didn't need my dick of an ex-husband! So, thanks, but no thanks on your offer."_

_Turning on her heel, she stormed into the living room and immediately over to Kelsey. Grabbing her daughter by the arm, she hauled the teenager to her feet and pushed her in the direction of the door._

_"Go get your shoes on. We're going home."_

_"But mom-"_

_"NOW, Kelsey."_

_Kelsey, very familiar with that tone, especially when her mom had been drinking, knew it was time to shut up. Ignoring Sam and Dean's looks, she moved to the shoe rack by the front door and grabbed her tennis shoes, plopping down on the wood flooring to pull them on._

_Mary and John had followed their enraged friend into the living room, who was busy pulling on her own jacket before snapping at Kelsey to hurry up, that it was time to go._

_Once Kelsey was standing, she waved goodbye quickly to Sam and Dean and allowed her mom to haul her out of the front door._

_"Jen, wait!" Mary called, following after her friend. "Let's just talk about this."_

_"Talk about what? That you think I'm a lousy, alcoholic parent?"_

_"No, not at all." Mary shook her head, pleading. "John and I. We care about you, and while we don't exactly what you're going though, we just think you could use a bit of help. That's it." She waved with a hand back to the door. "Just come back in and we'll talk."_

_Kelsey bit her lip, shifting in her mom's tightening grip. It was actually starting to hurt a bit more now. "Can't we stay? Just a bit longer? And listen to what they have to say?" she tried, trying to tug her arm away._

_"I already said no!"_

_"But mom, Mary and John-"_

_"I said NO, Kelsey!" Jen, temper already at a boiling point, suddenly exploded. In one quick movement, she suddenly let go of her daughter only to raise a hand against her. SLAP!_

_Kelsey froze, eyes wide and shocked, unsure of what had just happened. It was until heat began to rise in her left cheek that she tenderly covered it with her own hand, and her eyes grew wet with tears._

_Jen instantly sobered, hand still raised, but anger left her face. Instead, shock took over, as if she couldn't believe she had just done that._

_Mary, herself, had covered her own mouth in shock, eyes widening before she sobered herself. Right now, the situation needed to be defused, and quickly, and that meant Kelsey needed to get to safety. "Kelsey, go back inside."_

_"Kelsey... I..."_

_Kelsey ignored her mother, hand still covering the flamed skin of her left cheek, and darted inside to the safety of the Winchester house on Mary's command._

_"Mary, I didn't... I just... " Jen tried, shaking her head. Her mouth moved, silent words coming out as she tried to figure out how to word the guilt she felt, and the apology she owed._

_"I'll get John to drive you home." The response was curt, short. "We'll keep Kelsey here until you are sober enough to think clearly."_

Dean's thoughts about that night were interrupted when the sound of Kelsey's cries filled his ears.

"She hit me..." Kelsey choked out, fresh tears filling her eyes as the memories came flooding back. "That's why I came here..."

Dean swallowed, biting down on his tongue and nodded slowly, looking down at the dark purple carpet of her room. "Dad drove your mom home, and I iced your face. Then, the next thing I know, Sam and I are getting told you were moving in while your mom got help."

"In Malibu?"

"Yeah. There was a rehab center that was supposed to be really good. And the weather wasn't too bad of a perk either." Dean paused, taking another deep breath and looked up at the redhead, who had moved from the headboard and closer to him.

"Look, Kelse... I'm..." The man, normally not at a loss for words if you were to ask anyone, suddenly had no idea what to say.

Kelsey allowed her green eyes to drift over him, and Dean had to try and fight the shiver going up his spine. He could feel her eyes raking over him, trying to read him, look at his soul and try to figure out what he wanted to say without him saying it. He couldn't remember her ever staring at him like that, trying to figure him out, and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

When she didn't respond, but simply continued to stare at him, Dean took it as a silent invitation to continue. Even if he didn't know what to say.

Eventually, he settled on an apology, one he had been meaning to make for a long time. "I'm sorry..." he offered weakly, hesitantly. "For letting your mom hit you... for you being in the car with me that night... You wouldn't be where you are now, fighting to recover memories if you hadn't been."

To his surprise, Kelsey tentatively reached over and took one of his larger hands in her smaller one. "It's okay." The words drifted off her lips softly. "You didn't know."

Dean swallowed again, using his free hand to rake it through his hair and could feel his own eyes fill up with tears at how forgiving the woman was. He sure as hell wouldn't be if he were in her place. Later, if he was asked, he would blame the sudden rush of emotion on exhaustion because Dean Winchester did not do crying.

"But I should've seen it coming." He argued, and quickly used that same free hand to scrub it over his face again. "All of it. I knew what your mom was like when she drank, I knew the roads would be bad. And it's my fault and I'm-"

He was suddenly cut off as two thin arms encircled his neck, hugging him tightly. Dean stiffened but soon allowed himself to hug her back, relaxing as he did so.

"It's okay, Dean." She cooed into his ear softly. "I forgive you, even if I don't remember it."

The man burrowed his face into her shoulder, tightening his grip on her. Suddenly, he found himself aware of everything about her: the sweet mix of berry scented shampoo, the way her smaller body fit in his arms, even as they hugged. The calming effect that she was having on him, even though she had been the one to awaken screaming. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had hugged her like this.

They sat like that for a few long minutes before Dean reluctantly let go. Anyone else, and he'd be happy to make some kind of sexual innuendo, but this was _Kelsey. _One of his oldest, closest friends. Instead, he just offered a small upturn of his lips.

"Think you can get back to sleep?"

The redhead nodded slowly, her eyes heaving from exhaustion and crying. "Yeah. Thanks, Dean."

He simply dipped his head in a sign of "You're welcome" before he climbed back to his feet, ignoring the urge to stay and make sure she would stay asleep.

Moving to make his way out of her room, once she was situated under the covers, he bid her a goodnight, shut off the light and closed the door behind him. Taking a minute to himself, he sighed heavily and closed his eyes in his own frustration at where thoughts were leading him, and why he seemed to be suddenly so much more aware of the female he just walked out on. Damn him.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading! See you next chapter, and don't forget to review!<strong>


End file.
